Roberto Firmino is often remembered for what he did not do. He was Liverpool’s striker, yet he rarely topped scoring charts, because he was a facilitator. That fact alone shaped the debate around him. But it misses the point of his role.
Firmino did score goals. He scored important ones, often against strong opponents who defended high and aggressively. What made him different was not an inability to finish, but a job description that placed scoring second rather than first. His primary task was to move defenders, connect attacks, and keep Liverpool’s front line functioning as a unit.
In the late 2010s, this profile felt unusual. By the mid-2020s, it has become deliberate. Possession-heavy teams now recruit strikers knowing they will not produce traditional numbers. They accept this because the striker’s first responsibility is no longer to stay in the box, but to vacate it.
This is not about strikers who cannot score. It is about systems that ask their striker to score less so others can score more. Goals still matter. Shots still matter. The difference is that they no longer tell the full story of a striker’s contribution.
Non-shooting strikers tend to score in specific situations rather than through constant involvement. They arrive late into the box, attack cut-backs, or finish moves after defensive lines have already been disturbed. Their goals are often the result of timing rather than volume.
Because of this, analysis has shifted. Instead of focusing only on how often a striker shoots, teams now look at what his movement does to the defense.
How many defenders follow him when he drops deep. How often his positioning opens a lane for a winger to attack the box. How frequently he is involved in the pass that breaks the line before the assist. Tracking data has made these contributions visible. Off-ball runs that pull a center-back away from the danger zone are now logged and valued, even if the striker never touches the ball. These metrics do not excuse low goal totals. They explain why a striker can score fewer goals and still be central to how a team creates chances.
There is no single version of the non-shooting striker. The role appears in different forms depending on the system.
The retreating striker drops away from the box to receive the ball in midfield areas. By doing so, he forces defenders to make a choice. Step out and leave space behind, or hold the line and allow him to turn. His goals tend to come late, when defenders have stopped tracking him as a primary threat.
The defensive striker(yes, defensive striker) focuses on work without the ball. He presses, chases, and disrupts build-up play. This type still scores, but his energy is spent maintaining territorial control rather than saving himself for finishing. When he scores, it is often after sustained pressure rather than quick breaks.
The wall striker acts as a connector. He receives the ball under pressure and releases it quickly, allowing midfield runners to attack space. His goals come from rebounds, cut-backs, and second balls, not from being the focal point of every attack.
In all three cases, scoring remains part of the role. It is simply not the starting instruction.
The reason this striker profile exists is simple. The main goal scorers have moved.
Modern wingers attack the box more directly than ever. The Semenyos, Salahs and Palmers of this world all arrive at speed from wide areas and finish moves that once belonged to central strikers. To make this possible, someone has to clear space for them.
In now popular structures like the 3-2-2-3, the striker often drops into midfield during build-up. This creates numerical advantages in central areas and allows the team to control possession. The cost is fewer touches in the box. The benefit is more consistent pressure and better-quality chances.
The guiding idea is straightforward. It does not matter who scores, as long as the space is used well. A striker who insists on staying central can limit his own team’s options and scoring responsibility has not disappeared. It has been redistributed.
From the stands, as fans, this role can be frustrating. When the striker passes instead of shooting, it looks like hesitation or lack of confidence.
From the dugout however, it looks different. Managers value control. A missed shot often ends an attack. A recycled pass keeps the opponent under pressure and increases the chance of a better opportunity.
These strikers are judged internally on discipline, movement, and decision-making, not just goals. That requires mental strength. They must accept criticism while knowing that their contribution will rarely be obvious. When they do score, it often feels timely rather than routine.
This type of striker has not abandoned his duty. He has delayed it. He still scores, but his goals are moments within a larger structure, not the structure itself. His value lies in what he allows others to do, and in how he keeps the team functioning.
There will always be room for pure finishers, like Erling Haaland himself and some teams will always need them. But for possession-dominant sides, the striker who shoots less may be the one making everything else work. The question in such setups is no longer how many goals the striker scores, but whether the team scores more because of him.
